No Mercy
by brain-wash-ed
Summary: Welcome back to Juvenile Hall. Josh Meyers and Trent Boyett meet at long last. Nonslash, but perhaps implied. Oneshot. [Romper Stomper makes a cameo appearance as well.]
1. Trent

_I stand up straight. I march__ in an orderly fashion. __I say y__es,__ sir, n__o, sir. __I do what they tell me, because I don't have a __choice_

_I've learned by now__ that kicking and screaming do__n't help __nobody_

_T__his is __Juvenile Hall. _

_Juvenile Hell, more like_

_I've been here longer than anybody__, having __o__nly tasted sweet freedom for the briefest of moments._

_I'__ve been __waiting here__ for nine __years,__ and there's__ only one more to go. _

_I've heard them__ say__ that__ revenge is a dish b__est served cold. _

_Well…__m__y__ revenge__ is already frozen._


	2. Ralph

"Fuck that shit." I growl to Ralph, "Romper-Stomper", as I toss my tray of food on the table. "You knew Eric Cartman too?"

Ralph nods, chewing loudly. "Yeah, he shared a room with me for about a week."

"And no one told me?!"

"Why the hell would we tell you? Did _you_ want to share a room with him?" He sneers, and gives me a disgusted look.

I lean in closer and grab the neck of his orange jail suit. "You pigfucker." I mutter. "That's the kid I wanted to kill all these years."

"Jesus, Trent, get a hold of yourself." Ralph rolls his eyes and removes my hand from his suit. I know he could probably rip me to shreds if he wanted to, but I don't like to admit that to myself. I sit back down, and stare with disgust at the slop they've given us today. No, every single day. I wouldn't be surprised if they've just been re-using the same bucket of food for years now. I look around at the sad, pathetic, sociopathic fucks as they mindlessly go about living in this stupid box.

I hate this. What did I ever do to deserve _this_?

Okay, I started a fire. But what four year old hasn't?

It was an accident. An _accident._

"So what'd he get stuck in here for anyway?" I demand.

Ralph shrugs. "A hate-crime, I think. But his friends managed to get him out."

"His friends! Ha!" I snicker. "What a bunch of pussies."

Ralph doesn't respond, and the pause in the conversation allows me to dig into the so-called food.

The fact that he had managed to escape something he _was_ guilty for made me hate them all the more. Their entire lives, they've been getting out easy. Surviving plane wrecks, playing with weapons, and stopping the entire Earth from being 'Cancelled'.

And what was I doing? I was _waiting._

"Hey, how many more years you got?" I ask. Losing track of time was the only comfort I had in this jail cell.

"Actually," Ralph starts with a smirk. "I'm getting out tomorrow."

"No fuckin' way." I mutter.

Ralph grins wider. "Yeah, I know. I can't wait to see the world again. It's gonna be great."

He sounds so delirious, it's almost funny. And he's only been here for three years.

It made me want to punch something.

"Lucky bastard." I grunt, grinding the mush with my fork.

"Dude, it won't be so bad. I hear another kid's coming in to fill up the space."

"How the hell does that make it better?! He's just another idiot for me to kill."

"You wish, Boyett. You've never killed anyone."

"Fuck you." And somehow, I think it would make me a better person.

Ralph picks up his empty tray and walks away, unfazed by our conversation. "I gotta go pack, and I'm bringing _Disneyland_ with me."

Goddammit, I hate him so much right now.


	3. Josh

The new kid was quite small, with neat straight black hair tucked behind his ears. The first time I saw him, he had just sat down across from me, at my lunch-table. A table which usually remains _empty_.

I send him my foulest glare, but he doesn't even blink. He just smiles a cold, disturbing, _evil _smile.

"Hello there, Trent Boyett." He says in a friendly, yet chilling voice.

"What the hell do you want?" I snarl.

"I only sat down to eat my lunch, is that such a crime?"

I don't say anything, I only begin to plan in my head his impending doom.

"The name's Josh, by the way. Joshua Meyers."

Joshua Meyers. How did I know that name would drive me to hell and back from the very first time I heard it?

"I really don't give a shit." I bark back.

"Oh, has a temper, does he." Josh says with a smirk. "Why is that, Trent Boyett?"

"I have my reasons."

"Don't we all?" Josh asks.

This _isn't_ funny. I really don't like this. "Yeah, let me guess." I groan. "You're totally innocent, huh? You know what? Everybody is innocent. It doesn't fucking matter who's innocent or not anymore, as long as they can throw someone in jail so they don't have to deal with _why_ it happened in the first place. Jesus Christ."

"I'm not innocent." Josh says, smiling and staring directly at me.

"What'd you come here for?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Quid pro quo, Trent Boyett. Why are _you _here?"

I crunch my fists and gritted my teeth. Now he was _really_ pushing it.

"Are you innocent, Trent Boyett?"

"Yeah. I'm fucking innocent all right."

"Excuse me, I didn't catch that."

"I SAID, I'm innocent!" I nearly shouted. Why didn't he leave already? Why didn't I scare him?

Why did he seem to be scaring _me_?

"I see." Josh smiled again. "So you were framed."

"Yeah. For setting the teacher on fire." I scowl. "Those shitheads better being praying right now because when I'm through with them, only God will be able to save their faces." I don't tell a lot of people my story, but it seems like the only way it'll get him to shut up.

"How long has it been?"

"Nine years. Nine long, miserable, fucking years. Only one more to go." I sigh.

"I see. So while you're rotting away in jail, those responsible are out there, enjoying their perfect lives?"

I look up.

"Doesn't that just tear you up inside? Knowing that your entire life has been nothing but a waiting game? Knowing that you will lose that time forever, time that they _stole_ and probably aren't even using."

"I…"

"Let me tell you this, Trent Boyett. They live on the outside. But they don't realize how lucky they are. They waste their time, waiting for ice cream trucks to come along. They never even stop for a minute to think about poor Trent Boyett. And they probably think you deserve it. They think you'll learn your lesson. But they are the ones committing the crime."

I am shaking with fury.

"And there's nothing you can do about it."

I throw my tray to the floor. Food splatters, and Josh still doesn't blink.

Nothing is working.

"You now." I order. "Tell me why you're here."

"Well, I'm not to brag…but I have broken the world record for the being the first to TP the White House."

'TP'? As in, toilet paper? Jesus, how old _was_ this guy? "And how the hell did you do _that_?" I sputter.

"I've been trying it for years, but I could never manage to finish the whole house in time. Until recently." He is beaming with pride. "It's interesting, when you've been waiting so long for that one instant, and it finally happens..."

I can't take any more. I stand up, averting his gaze, and walk away.

"Well, I've enjoyed this, haven't you, Trent?" he asks, following close behind me. "I hope you have, because you know, it's important to savor every good time you have. It's probably the only ones you'll ever get in this childhood."


	4. The Headmaster

"Trent Boyett! Please report to the head!"

This again. Shit. Probably busted for making a mess in the Mess Hall or some minor deed like that.

I walk into the room, and see Josh. I can feel the anger boiling up again.

"Trent, the last few people Joshua has been sent to share a room with have either gone insane or committed suicide." I stare fiercely at Josh. "Since Ralph has left, you were voted the toughest kid in Juvenile Hall. So we decided you'd probably be the best to handle him."

Toughest kid in Juvenile Hall? I would have almost felt proud if it actually mattered, and if it didn't mean that I had to sleep in the same room as that psycho.

"Yes, sir." I said, through clenched teeth.

"Good." They both smiled at me.


	5. Clarice

"Do you believe in love, Trent? Or did you grow up dark and alone, so you have no association with that emotion?"

"Go to hell, Josh." I flick off the light, and collapse into my bunk.

I hear him climb into his bed as well and I can almost see his devilish grin in the dark.

"Love yah, Trent."

I feel my face grow hot with anger and embarrassment. "Go to _hell_, Josh."

He giggles high pitched laughter in response to this, completely breaking the image of whatever character he's trying to portray.

"Hey, you ever seen _Silence of the Lambs_?" he asks me.

"Dude. I've been here since I was four."

"Oh, right. Goodnight then..."

I huff, and close my eyes.

"…Clarice." He adds.


End file.
